04-23-2018, 11:46 PM
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Margy's voice was one of the few that Bast would not completely ignore. He wasn't quite what it was about her and Suite, but the two were tolerable. Perhaps it was just the intrigue that surrounded them, the subtle suspicion that they were hiding something, or maybe Bast had a greater attachment to his mother's Clan system than he had initially thought. Maybe the simple fact that Marg (and likely Suite) were from the same areas was what produced this sense of kinship, the idle draw. Bast was mildly surprised by the possibility -- though those lands were also the lands of his past lives, he had never felt any particular loyalty to their groups. He'd never liked Frenchpaw's home or her friends. Why should he care about shared birth grounds now?
Regardless of the reasons, he found himself heading in the direction of her call now, his head throbbing dully after a swift patrol. The sight out Suite's aura heading towards Margy's as well had his interest piqued, and he picked up the pace slightly, coming to a stop a few paces away from them just in time to catch the end of the exchange.
Bast stared at them, slowly processing this abrupt change of pace before he arched a skeptical brow. Strange, that. One might even say... suspicious. "Not to be the buzzkill," he drawled, flatly. He looked very much like he did not care about being the buzzkill. "But don't you have a wife?" He gave Margy a pointed look, as if asking her to reveal that Suite was in fact that wife. (Okay, unlikely, but still -- something was up, here. Bast refused to believe that these two were strangers who fell in love quickly. Maybe Margy didn't have a wife and it'd all been a cover for her secret affair with Suite, or some shit like that.)
Margy's voice was one of the few that Bast would not completely ignore. He wasn't quite what it was about her and Suite, but the two were tolerable. Perhaps it was just the intrigue that surrounded them, the subtle suspicion that they were hiding something, or maybe Bast had a greater attachment to his mother's Clan system than he had initially thought. Maybe the simple fact that Marg (and likely Suite) were from the same areas was what produced this sense of kinship, the idle draw. Bast was mildly surprised by the possibility -- though those lands were also the lands of his past lives, he had never felt any particular loyalty to their groups. He'd never liked Frenchpaw's home or her friends. Why should he care about shared birth grounds now?
Regardless of the reasons, he found himself heading in the direction of her call now, his head throbbing dully after a swift patrol. The sight out Suite's aura heading towards Margy's as well had his interest piqued, and he picked up the pace slightly, coming to a stop a few paces away from them just in time to catch the end of the exchange.
Bast stared at them, slowly processing this abrupt change of pace before he arched a skeptical brow. Strange, that. One might even say... suspicious. "Not to be the buzzkill," he drawled, flatly. He looked very much like he did not care about being the buzzkill. "But don't you have a wife?" He gave Margy a pointed look, as if asking her to reveal that Suite was in fact that wife. (Okay, unlikely, but still -- something was up, here. Bast refused to believe that these two were strangers who fell in love quickly. Maybe Margy didn't have a wife and it'd all been a cover for her secret affair with Suite, or some shit like that.)
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]